by E. R. Torre
“I wish I could say more,” Cambridge began. “Good luck, Captain Torin. And the Gods’ speed.”
The view screen went black and the darkness within Captain Torin’s quarters was overwhelming. Torin again looked out his window and at the stars. His eyes scanned the constellations and locked in on a tiny star on the upper right side of the window.
Erebus. Such a tiny, insignificant thing. So impossibly far away.
Captain Torin rose. He walked to the window and laid his hand on the tinsel glass. It felt cool to his touch. He focused on Erebus, as if the few feet walk from his desk to the glass somehow afforded him a closer look.
A chill ran down his spine. What happened in the next day at that distant, dull light would not only impact billions of citizens of both Empires, but it would have an even more immediate impact on the Argus and the crew that remained on board.
For Project Phoenix meant the death of everyone left on board the ship.
Captain Torin slammed his fists against the glass. He returned to his desk and pressed the intercom button. The youthful face of Ryan Mills, Captain Torin’s First Officer, appeared on the central monitor.
“Yes sir?” Mills inquired.
“We need to talk.”
Captain Torin and First Officer Ryan Mills walked down the empty hallway of Corridor 31. In the past few months, few had ventured to this area. The accumulation of dust testified to this fact.
Visible at the end of Corridor 31 was a door. It led to a large, sealed room. The room housed Project Geist, one of the more than three thousand experiments conducted on board the super juggernaut. This experiment, unlike those others, was shut down due to ethical questions. The scientists involved in the project and on board the Argus were transferred, but their equipment remained behind.
“Are you sure about this?” Mills inquired when they reached the door. “There remain great risks.”
Captain Torin pressed his hand against a thermal pad beside the door’s frame. A soft red light bathed his hand.
“I’m well aware of them all,” Torin said. “I need to do this. If anything goes wrong...”
“I have your orders, sir.”
“Please identify yourself,” a computerized voice asked after the palm print was analyzed.
“Captain Nathaniel Torin of the juggernaut Argus, identification prefixes 1000334a.”
The jarring sound of unassailable locks disengaging filled the empty hallway. The immense door leading into Project Geist opened.
Captain Torin and First Officer Ryan Mills stepped past the door and into the room. As soon as they did, the mighty door closed behind them.
An hour later, Captain Torin was back in his quarters, reading the day’s intelligence reports and making certain everything was proceeding as it should. When he was satisfied all was ready, he exited his room and walked to the elevator at the far end of the ship’s principal corridor.
After entering the lift, he marveled at the number of levels within the ship. His ship.
Large as some of the destroyers in the RES Corps were, the Argus was the only super juggernaut class ship in the entire fleet. As such, it possessed the most conveniences. Despite her military classification, she had several large entertainment centers, food stations, and a unique, and very large, Hydroponics Level. The gardens were used to supplement the tasteless, and universally despised, nutrition rations and refresh the at times stagnant, artificially purified air within the ship.
It was to this level that Captain Torin headed.
He did so because his wife, Angela Torin, would be there among the plants. She spent most of the morning hours in that heavy humidity. It was her personal escape from the more stressful work in the Bio-Labs. There were many times she asked her husband to accompany her down there. But each time she did, Captain Torin found something more important to do.
After a while, Angela Torin gave up asking.
My loss, Captain Torin thought. Lost time was another burden to carry with him into Erebus.
Captain Torin stepped out of the elevator and was immediately hit with a wave of humidity. Extending for several miles in front of him were rows upon rows of lush plants. He could not identify even one species of plant from the rest, yet marveled at what he saw nonetheless.
It is beautiful, he thought.
Captain Torin's eyes followed a coiled vine that rose several floors up and beyond the evenly spaced lights hanging above the Hydroponics Level. Beyond the lights were hundreds of panels of tinsel glass. Beyond the glass and creeping through the artificial lights was the darkness of outer space. Without meaning to, Captain Torin spotted the faint light of Erebus…
No, he thought. Not here. Not now.
He took a breath and, despite his souring mood, forced a smile.
Captain Torin walked on. He was soon surrounded by the plants. After rounding a couple of corners, Captain Torin spotted his wife leaning over a beautiful red flower. She held it gently in her hand but did not pull it off its stem.
Captain Torin silently watched his wife. Her loose fitting clothes could no longer hide her pregnancy. In another few months, Captain Torin would be a first time father.
“Well, well, look who’s here,” Angela Torin said and released the flower. Her eyes were icy blue and her hair light brown. She was several inches shorter than her mate and, when she was by his side, had to stand on her toes to kiss him. Afterwards, Angela pointed to the lush green bush and flower. “What do you think of her?”
“Her?”
“She's far too pretty to be a 'he'.”
“It –she– looks beautiful,” Torin agreed. “What is she?”
“That, my dear, is a rose. You’ve never seen one before?”
“Maybe, at some point,” Torin replied. He reached for the flower.
“Careful, she’s delicate.”
Torin drew his hand back. “She also has thorns.”
“Beautiful but dangerous. Not unlike many things in nature.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it. Of all the plants we have, why your interest in this particular one?”
“The rose plant doesn’t bear any fruit nor provide nutrients, so the Hydro Techs didn’t bother with her when she arrived with the rest of the crops. They alternately starved or drowned or cooked her, yet she somehow survived. When I finally found her, she was near death. It was a pity to see something that could be so beautiful ignored. All she needed was a human touch.”
“Are we still talking about the rose?”
Angela turned away from the bush. On a metal platform overlooking the Hydroponics level, she saw the elevator doors open. Two security guards exited and came to a stop.
“Looks like you’re wanted,” Angela said.
Captain Torin offered the guards a wave. They acknowledged him with a salute but remained in place.
“Must not be terribly important,” Angela said. “Otherwise they’d be dragging you away.”
“I sent for them.”
“You did? Has someone been stealing the carrots?” She giggled. “I've had some strange cravings of late, but I swear it wasn’t me.”
“We’ve been ordered into Erebus.”
Angela Torin’s hand came to her mouth.
“By the Gods,” she whispered. “Project Phoenix?”
“We’ll reach the Monnel Displacer within the hour.”
“But the Queen said we were making progress. She said the war would be over.”
“The Queen tells her subjects what they want to hear. In this case, and unknown to her, she does not lie. The war will be over very soon. It's why you are going to evacuate the ship.”
“You can’t be serious. I would sooner leave than—”
“Hush. There’s no need for you...for our child, to go into Erebus.”
“The hell there isn’t,” Angela yelled. “I will not leave you!”
“You will,” Torin growled. He grabbed his wife by her shoulders and held her still. “Please don’t make me order t
he guards to escort you out. I…I don’t want my last memory of you to be like that.”
“You’re hurting me,” Angela whispered.
Torin released his wife.
“Angela…I’m sorry.”
They faced each other for several seconds, neither saying anything. Angela finally broke the silence.
“I can’t leave you. Even if you are going to Erebus.”
“You’ve put up with so much from me…from my family. The Queen mother, my brothers…they never accepted you as they should have. But you’re everything I’ve lived for, Angela, and that’s why I can’t let you stay. If not for you, then for our child.”
“What about the others?”
“If it were in my power, I'd evacuate everyone. Everyone but me. Unfortunately, the Argus requires a crew. Even if it is the bare minimum.”
“Please...please let me join you. Things might yet turn out well.”
“I wish there was a chance,” he said. “But we both know there isn't.”
Captain Torin pulled a shiny crystal cube from his shirt pocket. When Angela saw it, her face went white.
“You didn’t—”
“It’s all there,” he said before placing the cube into Angela’s hands. “I want this ship’s sacrifice to mean something. I want the Empire to live, even as so many will certainly die.”
When she held the cube, a torrent of emotions flooded from Angela. Tears ran down her cheeks. Captain Torin tried to hold back but couldn’t.
“I love you,” he said. He wrapped his arms around his beloved wife and gave her a deep, passionate kiss. “Promise me our child will have a good life. Promise me my last wish will come true.”
Angela shook her head. Her next words were barely audible.
“I promise.”
Torin wiped the tears from his wife’s face and motioned to the security guards.
“They will take you to bay fifteen. An escape shuttlecraft is waiting for you there. It’s…it’s our last one. Controls and course are set. Other than my most trusted guards, no one will know you’ve left. You will be listed as one of those aboard the Argus when she departed for Erebus. Within the shuttle you’ll find new identification and enough money to live a quiet, comfortable life. After our child is born and is strong enough for space travel, you should take him to Onia. I was raised there. It is my understanding the world has changed considerably, but I still have trusted friends living there. They will care for you. Say nothing to them about me or the fate of the Argus. Take advantage of your new life and make sure our son lives in a world free of wars.”
“I love you,” Angela said. “Even though making me leave your side is wrong.”
Torin held her hands in his. “There is no wrong or right. There are choices that are made in the hopes they help more people than they hurt. I love you, Angela. I will always love you, as I will always love the Empire. Remember that my actions today were because of this.”
The security guards approached but kept a courteous distance from Captain Torin and Angela. The two embraced one final time.
“I love you too,” Angela said. “I will wait for you in Onia. I will wait for your return.”
They separated and Angela walked past the guards. Captain Torin motioned to them and they followed his wife to the elevator. Tear soaked eyes stared at her husband until the elevator doors closed.
With a sharp burst of exhaust Shuttle 15 lifted off the floor and gently floated up into the cold vacuum that filled the Argus’ primary landing bay. It spun around and let out another short burst of propellant. In seconds the shuttle cleared the bay doors and moved past the Argus and into outer space.
Angela Torin watched as the mighty super juggernaut grew smaller and smaller. It wasn’t long before this fearsome war machine resembled a child’s toy. Soon after, it was nothing more than a large white dot in a field filled with smaller white dots. One of them, Angela knew, was the Monnel Displacer. The Argus gained speed as it headed directly to toward its destination.
A sudden, steady burst of light indicated the Displacer’s massive transportation machinery was powering up. A final burst of tears rolled down her cheeks and her hands settled on her stomach. She felt their child moving within her.
“You’ll have to be brave,” she told the child and herself. “You will get a chance to grow up.”
Yes, Angela thought. Nathaniel Torin's child would grow up. The Torin name would live on.
Captain Torin walked the deck of the Argus with purpose. His eyes never straying far from the large view screen at the front of the bridge. In its center was the Monnel Displacer. The skeleton crew that remained on the Argus performed their functions with mechanical precision. There was little conversation or levity. The camaraderie that was usually shared on their journeys was replaced with a sober formality.
This was fine with Captain Torin.
When the particulars of their mission to Erebus were explained, Captain Torin feared his crew might panic. He was pleased to find them responding to their mission like the seasoned professionals they were.
The Argus neared the Displacer.
“Monnel Displacer, this is the Argus.” The voice was that of First Officer Ryan Mills. “We are on course 0031, distance five point three thousand kilometers. On final approach.”
“Acknowledged, Argus. We have jump coordinates. Displacer is powered up and awaiting your arrival.”
On the bridge’s view screen the Monnel Displacer's hollow core pulse with manic energy. Lights flickered and a mighty vortex of white light filled what was black, empty space.
“ETA is three, I repeat, three minutes.”
“Acknowledged. All systems are green. Displacer is at full power and wormhole singularity is stable. Good luck.”
“Thank you, Monnel,” Mills concluded. He eyed his Captain.
Torin nodded. All twenty of the men and women seated in their posts on the bridge stared forward, resolute. Though Torin’s face was hard, it displayed tremendous pride in those who stood at his side within the ship. Everyone knew what was coming and they were willing to follow their Captain to wherever he may lead them.
Captain Torin walked to the front of the bridge and turned to face his crew.
“When I was a younger man, I devoured every news article I could find,” Torin began. “Back then, they proclaimed the inevitability of war between our two Empires. I was eager for the call of battle. But as I grew, I realized the ugly reality. There came a night, not so very long ago, that I had a dream. A dream of peace. I imagined our people reaching out to our rivals and finally, finally, putting away all these centuries of hatred. In these times, I’ve seen us move away from my dream and closer to a day of reckoning. Ladies and gentlemen, that day has arrived.”
When Captain Torin paused, the bridge was deathly silent.
“We go now into a battle that will determine the fate of billions of innocents. There will be loss. There will be bloodshed. But despite the darkness of this hour, I see a shining light. I know that I will never live my dream, but I also know that what we do today, what we do from this very second forward, will ensure this dream becomes a reality. If not for us, then for everyone else. For despite the disappointments, despite the destruction, after today I know we will rise above our differences. Our sacrifice is the first step in the journey from darkness to light. We must all hold to that belief, for it is the truth.”
Captain Torin pointed to the view screen.
“What lies beyond the Displacer is both our fate and that of everyone else. Let’s make our next actions something we can be proud of. Forever.”
Many of the crewmembers nodded. Others, their faces stony and resolute, turned from the Captain and focused on their stations. The flickering energy of the Displacer, as reflected on the view screen, was almost blinding.
Captain Torin walked to his chair.
“Navigator,” he said. “Take her in.”
MERCHANT SHIP “VIRTUOUS”, on the edge of the Erebus Solar Syst
em
Doctor Stephenson sipped the synthetic orange juice and put the thin foil container on the side of his workbench. He straightened his glasses and watched as line after line of information appeared on the monitor before him. It was a maddening display. He rubbed his bearded chin and let out a deep sigh.
When will it end?
A week passed since his men took over the Virtuous, and today was looking very much like another day of mind numbing intelligence gathering. Here he was, deep in Epsillon territory at the birth of war, and the most exciting thing he’d done in the past two days was get a couple of extra hours of sleep.
Can’t stay on stims forever.
Then again, Stephenson thought, too little excitement was preferable to too much. Taking over the Virtuous was a near perfect operation. After removing the bodies of the Captain and his First Officer, Stephenson’s men, on board the light cargo cruiser Xendos, docked and, before any of the few remaining living staff of the Virtuous could react, spread out and took them down. Afterwards, all corpses were crated up. They would eventually be ejected into space and likely never found again.
All this was accomplished with only two injuries to his men. Both were serious enough for Stephenson to lock the men in stasis and send them back on the Xendos to the hidden Phaecian base. The stasis equipment on that ship would keep them alive and stable for at least a week. Stephenson knew that was not enough time. When he and the rest of his crew finally returned to Phaecian territory, the two men he sent ahead would be in body bags.
Stephenson frowned. His instructors back in the Corps would call this an acceptable loss considering the overall success of the mission, but what the hell did they know about loss?
It was one thing to talk about it in the comfortable confines of a classroom, and quite another to experience it first hand.
The Doctor tried to keep those grim thoughts from his mind and put his focus back on the mission. He was to continue the Virtuous’ flight path along the periphery of Erebus and collect information on the constantly moving Erebus Military Prime Displacer, deep within the Erebus solar system. He was to do this for as long as possible.